Fiend
by beyondwonder
Summary: Prompt response – strip club – M rated – Dean/Jo - Spoilers S4&S5 very slight though


**Title:** Fiend

**Rating:** M

**Spoilers:** Season 4 & 5

**A/N:** Hope this is what you wanted deansmistress – I wrote this at 2am for you :D But thank you for breaking my writers block.

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"Will you stop?" Sam hissed as the Winchester brothers took a seat towards the back of the strip club. From their shared position they had a clear view of the stage, both exits and the mostly male patrons. "Dude, the way you keep smirking… it's fucking weird."

Dean rolled his eyes, and placed his beer on the table. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he took a seat beside Sam. "This coming from the guy who is drinking a soda in a nudey bar," Dean retaliated, taking a sip of his beer. "It's a strip club, Sammy. A place where beer, boobs and lap dances are the only thing on the menu." He glanced around the room. It was still early, but the place was already crowded with loud-mouthed dicks in expensive business suits. "You are one Appletini away from being taken to a gay bar."

"Dean-" Sam hissed, flushing red. "For the hundredth time, I am not going to a gar bar with you." He kicked him painfully under the table. "I'm not gay, nor have I ever been gay despite what you told everyone in middle school."

"You don't need to be embarrassed, Sammy." Dean chuckled at the murderous look on his younger brothers face. "I just want you to be happy."

"Shut up!" Sam snapped, and snatched Dean's beer away. He sculled down half the beverage before slamming it down on the table. "Happy now?"

"Quiet, it's about to start."

A spotlight illuminated the small stage, the light bouncing off the glitter and oil adorning the stripper pole. Dean grinned, and leant back in his chair. He couldn't believe they had managed to strike it lucky with another stripper case. Of course he suspected it was yet another Siren, but he was grateful the Siren didn't appear to be changing its MO anytime soon, because Dean would take any excuse to do 'recon' in a strip club.

"Quiet?" Sam remarked sceptically. "Dean, no one within a mile radius is going to be able to hear me once the girls come on."

"I'm not worried about the patrons over hearing us. I'm worried about the case. You're gonna scare the Siren off if she sees some giant yeti in the back row complaining that he'd rather be at the library," Dean quipped. "Besides, we did it your way this morning, and we got bubkus. Now we are doing it _my_ way. And my way means you shut up, drink some beer and look at some titties."

The sound of a school bell ringing echoed through the PA systems. Dean grinned – he loved themed acts. Several men in suits crowded around the front of the stage, their dollar bills already waving in the air.

"I hope you gentlemen are ready… our next act is fresh out of high school and is looking for someone to share her study notes with …. Give a warm Sweet Spot welcome to… Holly."

Dean swiped his beer back from Sam, and drained the remainder of the contents. His trained green eyes swept the room suspiciously, before returning to the stage when he was sure every thing was normal. The blue curtains peeled away to reveal a tall leggy blonde standing with her back to the audience.

He loosened the tie he was wearing while his eyes wandered appreciatively up the four inch black heels all the way up to the white knee high socks. Creamy thighs disappeared under the smallest of grey pleated skirts Dean had ever seen, until finally his eyes descended upon her see through white blouse. He let out a low whistle. "School girl outfits are hot," Dean commented, his eyes raking over her luscious body for the second time.

"What happened to a nurses uniform being your favourite?" Sam teased, studying the patrons of the club.

Dean shrugged. "That was before I saw this chick. Dude, If the girls at school looked half as hot as her I might have actually attended most of my classes." He tossed his brother a smirk. "Or spent more time in the bathroom of a morning."

"You need help, dude," Sam replied, looking nauseated. It only made Dean's smile grow wider. "Seriously - a life time of therapy kind of help."

The music started pounding through the speakers, drowning out Dean's witty response. A quick glance at the exits, and Dean's eyes returned to the stage. The stripper, Holly, pretended to drop a pencil, and as she bent down to provocatively pick it up, the crowd went wild. Dean chuckled, his hands drumming restlessly on the top of the table.

"Dude, can you not?" Sam threatened; looking irritated as his drink slopped over his lap in reaction to Dean's movements.

"What?" Dean shouted, leaning towards his brother so he could hear what he said.

"I said; can you… ohhh heck."

Confused, Dean turned to follow his brothers' gaze. He grinned when he saw the stripper had shed her blouse. "Aww my little brother is getting his first boner," Dean teased mercilessly.

"No, Dean – look. Look at the girl closely."

Amused, Dean glanced back at the stripper. Her back was to the audience as she gyrated against the slick pole. She twisted slightly, her hand clasped tightly around the thick pole while she arched backwards. Dean whistled. Winding her perfectly toned leg around the pole, she ran her fingers up and down the pole in a suggestive movement. "Show us your tits!" An audience member crowed, waving money at her. His buddies high fived him for his comment. The stripper ignored him, and in one graceful move, she swung herself around the pole slowly. The men in the front row hollered their delight at her athletic ability.

The music picked up in tempo, and she ran her hands suggestively over her sequined encrusted bra. With a flick of her tiny hips, her skirt fell free, revealing a matching sequined pair of panties. Hands lifting her long hair over her shoulder she shook her head, before raising her hands above her head in mock ecstasy.

It was somewhere in between ogling her petite breasts, and feeling himself harden as she began to work the pole again, that Dean recognised the small charm hanging from her belly ring.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother.

"An anti possession charm – yup, it sure is." Sam confirmed meeting his brothers' curious gaze. "Look at her face though."

Giving Sam a funny look, he turned back to the stripper, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. Her fingers closed over her bra strap, and in one quick flick she removed the garment and flung it into the rowdy crowd. There were several hoots and whistls, before Dean finally got a clear glimpse of the strippers face.

"Recognise her now?"

"Oh, of all the things-" Dean stood up, heart beating furiously against his chest. "Jo?" He spluttered incredulously.

As if hearing his surprise, she turned towards him, her breasts jingling as she ground against the pole. He knew though that the spotlight shining in her eyes meant that she couldn't see his scandalized expression. She thew her head back, her mouth open slightly. The crowd went berserk.

"Go wait in the car, Sam," Dean snapped, still standing.

The bouncer by the door eyed Dean apprehensively, but made no move towards him. Sam stood up, glancing warily at the bouncer. "What? Why?"

"You heard me. Go." Dean repeated; his eyes locked on Jo's writhing form. Something shifted in the pit of his stomach, and his hands tightened into fist. One of the businessmen started throwing money towards her, trying to get her attention.

"Why don't _you_ go wait in the car?" Sam challenged, and tugged his arm when he didn't respond. "Dude, sit down. You're drawing attention."

Jo started to lower towards the ground, her legs parting. Dean clamped a hand over his brothers' eyes. "Dean! What are you – stop – Dean, you're poking my eye out!" Sam protested, trying to pull his brothers' hand from his face.

"Either close your eyes or go wait in the car," Dean commanded through gritted teeth. Jo stood back up, and pranced about the stage in time to the music. Suddenly the whole place took on a cheap and disgusting feel for Dean, and the bouncers and Sam were the only things stopping him from storming the stage and grabbing Jo and wrapping her in the stage curtain.

"Dean, you're acting like a jealous boyfriend." Sam shoved his hand away roughly. Dean made another attempt to cover his brothers' eyes when Sam pointed to the side of the stage. "Dean, wait… over there."

"What?"

"Over there, by stage. Do you see that guy with the flowers?"

The song thankfully ended, and the crowd booed. Jo bowed, winking at a few patrons before promptly skipping off stage towards the man holding a bouquet of purple hyacinths.

"Shit." Dean started to dash towards the stage when a bouncer stopped him.

"Can I help you there, Sir?" He boomed, flexing his tattooed biceps. The guy was taller than Sam and built like a Mac truck.

"My brother is gonna be sick. Where's your bathrooms?" Sam jumped in, taking Dean by the shoulder, and pulling him away from the burley bouncer.

"Over there." The bounder pointed out with a suspicious frown.

"Er, thanks." Sam steered Dean towards the bathrooms. Once the Winchesters had reached the door, Sam glanced over his shoulder at the bouncer and noticed that he was still watching them. He pulled Dean inside.

"What now?" Sam asked, glancing around the lemon scented room.

"Hang on." Dean pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and started to flick through the numbers in his speed dial until he found Jo's number. He pressed send, and paced impatiently while waiting for her to answer her cell phone.

"Dean, over here!" Sam called out, waving towards the window. Dean tucked his phone in his pocket. Popping open the window, Sam squeezed through the small opening, and cried out when he landed on the garbage bin underneath.

A drunk patron stumbled inside, his eyes blood shot as he unzipped his pants. Dean nodded in greeting to the man, and pretended to wash his hands while waiting for the man to finish up. Finally, the man splashed cold water over his face and trotted back out of the bathroom.

Dean waited until the door had closed before hoisted himself through the window. Sam was already heading towards the side of the building. Dean dashed after him, his eyes making out the locked backstage door. He was already pulling out his lock picks when they heard a high-pitched scream.

Whirling around, Dean and Sam searched the packed car park for the source of the scream. "Dean!" Sam pointed to one of the cars towards the back of the lot. It rocked back and forth violently.

"Jo!" Dean shouted, scrambling across the car park.

The rocking stopped. There was a flash of blonde hair and the car door opened. Sam was the closest, so he drew his gun towards the shadow exiting the back seat of the car. Dean's heart tightened, and he painfully smacked into a hood ornament as he slid over the bonnet of one of the cars.

"Jo?" Sam called out.

"Yeah?" Jo straightened up from beside the car. Sam lowered his gun, a look of relief plastered across his face. She wiped her bloody hands over her jeans.

"We heard screaming," Dean said, finally reaching them. "Are you hurt?"

Jo snorted, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "I'm fine - but the Siren in there isn't looking so crash hot anymore."

"You knew he was a Siren?" Sam asked, looking surprised. "Wait… were you the detective in town that the hospital morgue was talking about?"

Nodding, Jo reached into the car, and pulled out her jacket. She slung it over her shoulder. "Yeah, I've been working the case for a couple of days now." Smirking at Dean, she patted his shoulder patronisingly. "Better luck next time, slow poke."

She started to walk away, whistling to herself happily. Halfway towards the Impala she turned around. "Well, are you guys coming or are the two of you too busy letting the devil out of his bat cave to buy an old friend a congratulatory drink?"

Stunned, Sam open his mouth to protest, when Dean held his hand out to stop his brother. "Only if you promise to bring that school girl outfit of yours," he hollered after her.

Jo winked and pressed her keys. A large off road, red truck lighting up beside the Impala. "Sorry, Dean - I don't think my skirt will fit you."

Sam chuckled and glanced over at Dean. "Fine – one drink!" Dean called out, dragging his brother towards the Impala. "And while we're there you can explain why the hell you think stripping is a good career move."


End file.
